The Chosen One
by Ghost rider 1-3
Summary: Anakin Skywalker, the Chosen One, reborn to the planet of Earth, must atone for the sins he has committed in his past. While he knows nothing about his whereabouts, Anakin knows the only reason he got to live again.
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1

Reborn

"Ugh...Ouch."

Anakin groaned painfully as he tried to sit up straight. Somehow he didn't have any robes or suits or prosthetic arm on him. He was lying in an alley, naked and afraid. It was hard to tell what sent him to this place he has never been before, but he sure wasn't too interested to find out.

He knew no purpose to be still alive in whatever this place might be, but he still remembered every minute of his last life, and how he had a very unhealthy family because of his lust of power. Now born with nothing, he vowed never to make the same mistake again.

 _But first thing first. I need some clothes._

He never wanted to steal, but right now his options were limited. So with no other choice he headed outside, where the streets were empty and the sky was dark, and tried to find a crate specified for recycling clothes, a common trait that helps preventing people in the galaxy from creating excessive waste.

The only thing he could find that'll cover him was the lid of a trash can concealed well in the alley. And as he moved on a scent of blood suddenly caught his attention. Without hesitating he hurried to find the origin of the odour, and within minutes his work has paid off when he came across a fresh body with holes punched on it. Apparently he hasn't been paying his debts on time, and someone got upset enough to send a hit crew to tie up loose ends.

Anakin glanced around, and picked up the black leather jacket and worn jeans from the dead body in front of him. His new clothes were still smeared in red and purple, with some grooves of the knee of his pair of jeans, but he couldn't care less about the insignificant flaw, not when he has nothing else to wear.

Soon he was able to stroll on the street with his new findings without having pairs of eyes gazing at him. The dark jedi glanced at the old-fashioned clock hanging above a toy store by the road, and continued down the avenue towards, unknown to him, Central Park of the city of New York.

The following day...

Anakin opened his eyes and scanned the grassy area surrounding him. The sky was now glowing in a faint yellow and early birds were already at the park for a morning jog. He lifted himself up from the wooden bench he fell asleep on, and slowly made his way out of the park as he thought of what exactly to do in this unfamiliar world he doesn't remember conquering at all.

But as much as he was hazy about the place he was in, he was quite certain about why he was here to begin with. During the Galactic Civil war he had led countless genocide operations and had brutally ended the lives of unarmed good men and women without even the blink of an eye. Sins too much to atone for. Now, as the will of the Force has stated during his long sleep, he must pay for what he's done, in this mysterious place.

It wasn't like he was close to any place where a regular nine-to-fiver usually works. And so he decided the best thing to do for now was to move on the same direction he was heading last night, and hope his new life would be less blurry ahead.

He was approaching Times Square from Rockefeller centre when a box van screeched past him. He instinctively retreated from the asphalt and off the edge of the pavement, and simply ignored the van that nearly sent him to a trip to the medical centre at Polis Massa. But that was until he heard the sounds of muffled screams coming from around two blocks away, followed by a series of fireballs erupting into the air.

Anakin couldn't help rushing to the explosion upon seeing bits of wreckage flying up into the air. People were rushing and passing by him at an opposite direction, ignoring that he's in fact heading the wrong direction. He soon caught sight of what he has already been anticipating: a squad of gunmen shouting in a native language, or so it seems, just as the Force has warned him about.

 _The people terrorising civilians like the Force mentioned. No problem._

The only issue obstructing him right now was he unwillingness to ever use his inside powers ever again, especially what he has already done with this seemingly limitless superpower for absolute evil. There was no way he could go with it, and he wasn't about to think of anything that might change his mind right now. As a result, the reckless Anakin decided he was going to stick with his bare hands until he come across some weapon more powerful than that.

He cautiously huddled behind a sedan parked just between him and a rearguard gunman, allowing him to get up close to the unsuspecting criminal. And before he knew it, his neck was gripped tightly by Anakin, resulting in his inevitable death.

"Wait, who was that? Fire!" The gunners shouted frantically and turned around to repel their attacker, but with his force abilities he couldn't wipe away Anakin was quicker than his foes, and easily dodged their attacks. _Those ammunition they use are quite a problem, though. Hell, it used to be so simple to fight them._

Without a lightsaber or virtually any weapon, he had to hide behind car from car to keep himself alive long enough to fight the gunmen with Soviet weapons. By then every civilian in the area were either already dead or have escaped to safety of police checkpoints. News feed were scrambling of reports and raw footages of the recent terrorist attack, the one that Anakin's dealing with right now.

Anakin checked his right arm which felt like it was burning after he dealt with another gunner inside an abandoned box truck. He could see red flowing out of his wound, and he hasn't even taken out half of his foes yet. He stared out the open doors of the truck, and lucky for him none of his attackers were in sight...yet.

"Found him!" One of the gunmen who wrapped his head with pieces of cloth shouted upon seeing the wounded Jedi, attracting the attention of the rest scattered around the junction.

"Then what are you waiting for? Finish him!" Again, their leader yelled in a language Anakin couldn't understand.

 _Seriously? How long was I here? A day?_

Both sides were interrupted when another screech came from the distance, followed by the scream of the gunman and the sight of an armoured truck with a shield-like insignia sprayed on its side stopping in front of him. He heard a series of gunshots and shouts next, and soon found himself staring at the gunpoint of not a gunner he encountered earlier, but a well-equipped foot soldier dressed in black with a carbine rifle in his hand.

"Found him." was the last thing he heard before he was shot unconscious by an ICER.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

S.H.I.E.L.D

Anakin weakly opened his eyelids, only to find himself staring at a bald man in a well groomed suit sitting in front of him. He seemed to be less threatening than Anakin had anticipated, but the bodyguards behind him were a different story.

"I guess...I did something I shouldn't have?" He guessed wildly, clearly oblivious to S.H.I.E.L.D's interest in people carrying superpowers, no matter what type.

"Well, I wouldn't say that, after all stopping terrorists really...is...quite a noble act, especially for people with superpowers like you." The man in black replied casually.

Anakin couldn't help asking questions in his head. From the identities of the interrogators and all the fascinating sight of advanced machinery and technology around him. "Why are these two subjects related?" He demanded.

The interrogator stroked his chin and planted a slight smile on his face. "You might not know, but people with superpowers tend to hide them." He explained simply, which only left Anakin with more questions in his head.

"Why? If they have such powers, why would they even want to hide it?" Anakin insisted.

"Your guess is as good as mine. That's why you're here." Answered the interrogator. "You do seem to be a decent man, though." He added.

"Speaking of which, you haven't introduced yourself."

Anakin hesitated. While this man seems no less 'decent' than him, he had some doubts about trusting a person who didn't even reveal his name, some doubts any sane man would have.

"And you haven't either." But unknowingly to him, saying so was never a good idea, especially not when you're the one in captive. Lucky for him the interrogator managed to keep his temper, and answered with his name as Anakin wished. "You're right. Phil Coulson here."

"Anakin Skywalker." He saw no more suspicion when he answered.

"I assume you already know why you're taken here, right?" Asked Coulson.

The Jedi paused for seconds, and finally came to an answer when he though that his powers was what led Coulson's men to him. He refrained from replying, though.

"Never mind about that." Coulson eventually said to break the silence. "What would you like to do with your powers?" He asked.

"To help people. No more, no less." Anakin simply replied. Yet deep down, he knew there was something more than that, something that was certainly going to get Coulson's attention if he ever said a word about it...to atone for his sins in his last life.

 _He might think I'm a lunatic for this, though._

"That's great. A lot of other people with powers of yours? They don't feel the same." He commented. "You want to right wrongs with what you have, am I wrong?" He challenged.

"Why do you ask that?" Anakin couldn't help but blurt out what he felt asking.

"Just for asking." He replied.

"Yes. You can say that." Anakin lowered his guard and answered honestly.

Coulson paused to go through all that the man in front of him has said, everything, just as he did every time one was sent to him for interrogation. It was merely a habit, to make sure everyone's telling the truth back there.

"You may not know, but this place is specifically for people like you." Coulson said simply.

"People like me...?" Anakin stammered, confused.

"You're right. Look around. A lot of people you see walking by have superpowers, only not as powerful as yours. Those people are employed as SHIELD officers, just like every other normal person. You can be part of them too, that is if you wish to." The agent explained.

Anakin spun his head to get a better view of the futuristic structure he's resting in, and was fascinated to see all the gadgets and systems whatever those people he met were using. Sure he had already expected something strange would happen during his transition to his next life, and it did. But it was in a sophisticated manner, somehow, at least that's when he gets to understand more about this 'SHIELD' as the interrogator claims.

"That, I must admit, sounds good to me. Considering I have nowhere else to go. I have only one condition." Anakin finally demanded.

"Let's hear it." Coulson replied.

"Don't shoot me in the back." He said sternly as he stood up from his chair, quite worn by the long hours he has been on it.

"I'll make sure we'll do it in the front." Coulson chuckled. "I'm joking."

* * *

"You want me to what?" Anakin exclaimed upon hearing the crazy request from his new trainer.

"I want you to move that tractor without touching it." The trainer reiterated patiently, while pointing at the seemingly monstrous machinery resting in front of the Jedi. It had a tall canopy with an enormous pair of wheels on the side of it, which only made it look even heavier. "Your powers allow you to move objects without touching them, after all."

Anakin thought for a second, and turned to the instructor to make his reply. "I will, then."

He shut his eyes, and focused only on whatever was in front of him. He raised his had, and gave out his power, more and more, to finish his task at hand. At first the tractor didn't even budge, but soon it began to tremble, and it looks as if Anakin was really able to move it like a toy.

 _Dang. I've gotten sloppy._

About a dozen seconds later its wheels began to rotate in a slow but steady pace on its own, without any other help other that the powers of the reborn Anakin Skywalker. For him, all of this was starting to feel familiar again, and it seemed to him that the tractor wasn't as heavy as he thought, more like just another bulk door he always used to open last life.

"...I said, that's far enough for now." He was forced to snap out when he heard the voice of his trainer shout next to his ear, and to his surprise the tractor was already at the other side of the grass field, resting right next to another squad of men and women with superpowers, just like him.

They were cheering, for the 'newblood' who made his way into SHIELD.

"Splendid." The trainer congratulated, and so did the rest of his new co-workers by giving him a pat or clapping their hands.

"Your next assignment will be for real. I'm going to suggest you to get used to your powers again before you go."


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

First Blood

A briefing room buried deep inside the Triskelion rang with occasional commotion of newbloods and team leaders, both discussing the upcoming assignment shown in front of them. Among the agents and staffs coming and going stood a fairly muscular figure in his borrowed tuxedo, who had powers no one in this room could possibly determine in the near future.

"So this is my first assignment?" Anakin questioned while staring at the holographic briefing displayed in the center of the table, with his new teammates circled around the state-of-the-art projector. He was looking at a job that required him to bring down a drug cartel operating somewhere down in a wasteland called Mexico, only that Mexico was in fact quite far from a wasteland.

An easy in and out job, any SHIELD agent with a class 2 clearance or above would say, and so would Anakin if only he was fully aware of what he has to do. Unfortunately he was nothing but confused, only able to learn info about his job through the tongues of his fellow teammates who were obviously more aware than him.

From what he could hear he had to rig the cartel facility with some 'plastic charges', right in where the building's structure is at its weakest. _Simple enough,_ he thought. _If the Force doesn't fail me._ And before that, was sophisticated stealth entry that comes with strict rules and regulations that were meant to ensure success. But Anakin couldn't care less about it, he never had the luxury to have any food with even the slightest scent since his rebirth.

"Yes you've heard it right, rookies. You first test of what you've learned in the past three months. What you're seeing is a warehouse in the suburbans of Mexico City, a favourite location for drug cartels like THE Mafia, or whatever name you practice. You'll be riding into the city as a fellow citizen who just came back shopping in the West Coast. You will surround and infiltrate the target building through here, here and here." Anakin's new commanding officer Lee pointed on the screen.

"When you do you will proceed to your designated hard points to plant your package. Once you do so, depart immediately through where you came from without delay, or there's gonna be a lot more paperwork for all of us to take care of." Commander Lee continued. "And strictly no firearms unless absolutely necessary, for the sake of this mission." He added before leading the team to inspect their gear.

Anakin was more than capable of understanding the nature of his job, thanks to his countless experience during both the Clone Wars and the Galactic Civil War in which he was partly responsible of starting. In fact, the only thing that got to his nerves were the sheer amount of stealth needed to pull this off, something he's not a big fan of.

"From this point on these blue guns you're looking at will be your new best friend. Commonly known as ICERs, these things might differ from the guns you usually practice on. Barely any recoil, newly made grip, but most important of all, they can't kill." Lee explained patiently. "But make no mistake, it can still cause a heck lot of trouble if in the wrong hands."

"Arm up. Victors are rolling out in T-minus twenty!" Lee ordered sharply, killing any drowsiness still left in the bodies and minds of his men. Anakin skilfully filled his pockets with weapons, mostly given to them in this room they're in. He took a peek at the pistol's glowing slide, loaded a fresh magazine with the same glow on the side of it, and carefully concealed it in his standard issued windbreaker.

* * *

Tristan glanced at the endless queue of the undead traffic lined up in the opposite lane. The people rotting in their sedans and jeeps were shouting out in dismay to the slow progress of the immigration counter lying dozens or hundreds of meters ahead of them. Some were simply too impatient to remain in their cars and decided to get out for a stretch, not surprising for the novice agent who lives only ah hour's drive away from the Mexican border.

The lane they're on wasn't any better, bad odds for any covert operatives like them or the special forces units, shall they ever be ordered deep into this land of drugs. They've been stuck in the same position for the last half an hour, so long that some of the members were beginning to wonder who hired such inefficient border staffs in the first place.

The young Tristan had no idea what the agent sitting next to him was up to, as his eyes were shut right when Lee gave him permission to take a break. To top that, the traffic jam which every human being hates has hardly caused him problems. "Just what the heck is he made of?" Tristan joked.

"You've been asking that for at least four times." The driver reminded, no less frustrated than Tristan or anyone who wasn't meditating like Anakin was.

"Well, but I still don't have a valid answer." He said. At that point their ride was finally able to move a dozen of inches, good progress for the agents even though it was slow enough to put everyone out by the end of the day. "It's not gonna end till nightfall, do I get it right?" He asked.

The driver paused for a moment or so and got a good look of their situation. At least seventy more cars to go, in other words, even nightfall's not going to get them anywhere. Thankfully Lee's plan ensured that whatever time they approach, the plan will go without a hitch, or so he claims.

Anakin jolted upright and bashed his head with the ceiling of their sedan with no warning, startling the driver and mostly, Tristan. "You all right?" He couldn't help but ask.

"Yeah. Just got caught up meditating." Anakin answered. By then the sky had already undressed its blue shade. A series of yellow lines glowing above the horizon took its place, and lying in the middle was the sun about to disappear very soon.

"All right. I call that progress. If I were you, I'd get some rest Tristan." The driver commented after resting his right foot on the pedal and held it there for a second.

* * *

Anakin paced into the alley with a shroud of dreadful smell. A rat happened to sprint past him, apparently short of food, but he, as he should have, paid no attention to such minor detail and focused on getting into the shaft right above a stained trash bin. After that he's going to drill a hole into a weak point of the complex with an experimental drill which Tristan's carrying, while his other teammate's in charge of fooling nearby cameras with the old-fashioned trick of sticking a replica of the area it's filming.

He stepped on top of the fragile bin, ignorant to the wobbly structure ready to fall apart any moment. Tristan nervously kept his eyes on the alley they came from, afraid that an unsuspecting thug would suddenly make an appearance around the corner.

With his force powers Anakin easily made his way into the shaft almost narrow enough to break his skull, but not without making a few bangs and thuds as he progressed deeper into the complex with a handful of plastic charges.

He was about to call for Tristan through his radio when he lost his balance and nearly fell through an opening directly below him, which would make him collapse on a guard below and compromise everyone else. He was about to panic, but with the eyes of the guard closing in he hurriedly withdrew his body from the opening, and managed to stay out of sight.

He didn't dare to talk to anyone, knowing that no matter how low he keeps his volume, the guard would surely hear the chatter. For a moment he thought of using the Force as he always did in his old days, but no longer could he, as he was teamed up with normal people who never even knew the true definition of a midi-chlorian. So with no other choice, he bagged the idea and made a jump for the guard, with the ICER in his sweating palm.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

More Than Drugs

The thug now gripped on the neck by Anakin tried his best to scream for help, but with a knife now stuck in his liver there was nothing he could do aside from collapsing in his pool of blood. Anakin retracted his weapon, and cautiously called for Tristan who was still outside. Moments later the sound of banging metal grew louder above him, followed by a man in a black combat vest dropping in carefully next to Anakin.

"This way. Our hard point is right over there." He whispered, with his ICER in his hand. Anakin was paranoid to follow his action, and moved along the catwalk covered by massive storage barrels towards another wall barricading the hollow interior where their plastic charges were supposed to go.

Tristan signaled Anakin to get on the wet work, while he kept an eye on his back with the glowing iron sights of his pistol. "Why would anyone build hollow walls? Doesn't make sense at all." Apparently Tristan couldn't hold back his mouth, despite their need of remaining silent.

"I thought Lee said something about noise discipline. That can wait." Anakin suggested firmly as he fitted the yellow plastic in to the wall, along with the fuse coated in waterproof material. Once he was done the only visible evidence of their tampering was the fuse, now lit and burning after Anakin made use of his lighter he took along with him.

Right then he heard a pop from behind him, followed by the sound of a man collapsing and the sight of Tristan's ICER spilling out smoke from its barrel. Despite the sudden encounter Anakin knew what must be done, to get out of the facility from where they came from, only this time they could make as much noise as they wanted.

It turns out they weren't the only ones hitting a wall trying to keep stealthy either. As they crawled into the shaft shouts in Mexican and gunfire erupted from the other side, only making the duo crawl even faster until they both dropped out of the shaft and ran out of the alley, which still stunk.

"Come on. Hurry up!" The driver couldn't help slapping the doors of the car as the two made a beeline for the passenger seats. Tristan bolted in first, followed by Anakin as the driver stepped on the pedal without even waiting for him to shut the car door. But instead of the rest of his teammates sneaking out of the compound, Anakin caught sight of them running for their lives while a couple of them crouched and returned fire to whatever's behind them, with a pack of furious cartel thugs on their arse.

"Don't mind them. They can handle it on their own." Tristan stated as one of their own SUVs broke away from the pavement with flashes of gunfire erupting form its windows. Yet Anakin wasn't convinced, and was nearly going to open the window to offer a helpful hand when his partner pulled him back down. Moments later the ground shook violently and rocked the car, followed by a cloud of toxic smoke drifting up into the sky, attracting the eyes of every passerby.

* * *

"Alright. Nobody do nothing stupid." The driver warned as the loosely grouped SHIELD convoy housing the raiders that just took down a drug plant drove near the border checkpoint once more, only this time none of them were going to be drowned out by the long queue. To them, every person next to them seemed like murderers ready to slaughter them.

"I don't think I'm gonna even do anything." Tristan commented fearfully, his ICER already gripped between his hands. On the other hand Anakin was way more familiar to being within close proximity with his enemies...even though it's usually with a lightsaber in his hand, which explains why he wasn't already having cold feet like everyone else.

"I thought this is midnight." Anakin protested upon the sight of the equally crammed queue of the undead.

"That doesn't mean traffic is any less busy." The driver replied frustratedly. If there's anything that could make the team feel better, it was that their car could move a feet every time instead of a mere inch.

Anakin spotted another of their SUVs a couple of meters behind their sedan, along with a somewhat suspicious jeep that housed a total of four locals with crooked moustaches and similar tattoos on their arms. "Hey. Check out that black jeep." He warned after his midi-chlorians defined them as potentially hazardous individuals. Tristan reached for his speaker hidden in his shirt, and sent a warning to the rest of their team as well as relaying it back to the Hub.

Soon almost every SHIELD eye was on the lookout. All was well for the next hundred meters, until the vanguard SUV spotted a submachine gun sticking out of the side window of a rusty green hatchback. "Whoa. Gun spotted! 10'o clock, second lane!" The operative shouted, and instinctively everyone in the car scrambled for their ICERs, afraid of their worst fear of a highway ambush.

"Only attack when they attack." Commander Lee reassured. "Victor 2 and 3, sitrep."

"I got one. Black jeep, two meters behind us. Lane four." Anakin reported, still refraining from aiming at the driver as instructed. "Flipping heck. How far from the border?" He whispered.

"Less that a hundred mikes. After that, you won't have to worry about any shooting ever. Paperwork can solve anything." Lee replied, while unbeknownst to him the passengers of the hatchback hopped out, armed to the teeth and ready to shed blood. That was until one of the operatives stole a glimpse at the rear view mirror and noticed three armed silhouettes approaching their vehicle. They've lost the initiative to strike first, and they were sure going to lose their lives too if he didn't pull out his ICER and went crazy on the vengeful thugs.

Both Anakin and Tristan nearly jumped off their seats when the first shots rang, and as they were trained and taught to do so, they pointed the barrels of their ICERs right next to the window without poking it out. As they did their car jolted forward again, and this time they could finally count how many cars were left before theirs could pass.

After a long wait the last one finally made it across the border, and towards the closest SHIELD hideout they could reach before midnight.

* * *

Anakin rushed out the indoor range of Triskelion and to the laboratory a floor below it, and he would've took the headset that protects his eardrums with him as well if one of his colleagues didn't stop him. He wondered what could be so urgent to ring him in the middle of a firearms drill, but orders were orders, and Anakin knew it the best than anyone else in the cylindrical building.

The sight of a pair of silver tubes with black buttons were revealed when Anakin made his way to the lab. Every one of his teammates were there waiting as well, save for commander Lee since he wasn't done with the admin paperwork yet. "What are those?" One of them asked.

"It was from that building we blew up. That's all I know." Replied Tristan.

To Anakin's horror he instantly recognised the tubes, or rather, weapon lying on the table, one that he had been using all his life and till his final moments. "Well this thing goes way back. I can tell for sure."


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

Devilish Desires

Somewhere far, far away from where Anakin was questioned about his knowledge of lightsabers, the weapons found at the drug den his team busted sometime ago, hovered a massive spacecraft consisting of every possible weapon banned by numerous peace treaties signed by reluctant factions. Alongside it were a convoy of three equally lethal cruisers and a pack of loosely grouped escort fighters on their shift.

Within the conference room of the flagship was a group of men in uniforms, all the highest in their respective roles. Some were already sweating buckets, while some were no more than a blue image floating above a hologram planted on the floor.

"There was a disturbance in the force." Said one of the figures with his skin wrinkled and his gaze ready to kill. Some of the council members look quite intimidated, but the rest were more or less already used to this threatening face long ago.

"With all due respect, Supreme leader, that's not new at all." Another member commented, followed by nods of a few more figures. "However, we have received news that our forces have completely taken over the planet known as Pluto." He continued.

A third figure raised her head upon hearing Pluto, and lifted a data pad with her palm while reporting her findings. "That is correct. Until Mars fall into our hands, Pluto will be our base of operations within the Solar System."

"You have done well, colonel Nora. Continue your work." Snoke praised. "If there's nothing else to report, then let's hope you're right about me."

Agent Coulson's face was never more worried than now. He had just got word from a mining company in South America that a massive amount of unknown crystal was found in one of their mines. And judging by Anakin's words, though questionable, those crystals could possibly draw another wave of invasion similar to the Chitauri some years ago.

The phones in his office has never been more busy, leaving significant amounts of call history for the day. As a matter of fact, Coulson was just consulted by both NASA and the Secretary of Defense about the sudden anomaly on the distant planet of Pluto.

"A cluster of unidentified objects have just crashed on Pluto. There's a high probability they're not just asteroids." That was all he could summarise by far.

In another room specified for training purposes was Anakin and his teammates were battling it out to see who exactly was the best in hand-to-hand combat...without using any kind of superpowers. Unfortunately for them, their commander Lee wasn't there to see it for himself. And as the team expected, Marcus the 'bulkhead' was top of the class, using his incredible mass against his teammates. In fact, the only person who was even close to beat him was Anakin, with their duel ending in a tie.

For hours they've been waiting for the call of duty to come, or an order for them to assemble upstairs immediately. And when it didn't come, they would throw punches in the gym or lay a few round down the range, just to get rid of the lingering thought of a dangerous weapon housed no more than a few rooms away from them.

"What can that thing do?" Tristan broke the silence and give way to his curiosity.

"I'm not supposed to tell you." Anakin replied from inside the ring as his opponent swung a fistful at him, which barely missed and flew past his hair. "I can tell you few get to master it though."

"Why?"

"It's dangerous, as you've already said."

"I suppose it's some high class stuff then." Commented Tristan. "Like some other mutants."

Another hour has passed since the last match concluded in the gym, and still no order was given from the top brass, despite SHIELD's ability to steer clear of the White House's dreadful speed of processing a document. Since the attack of New York the space race has resumed in a different manner from before. Not with an eager nation of communists, but the invaders from beyond the reaches of humanity.

As far as the team knew, a limited production line of space-use Quinjets were being developed. But that was the only thing they knew about things related to their possible next assignment, and it would remain as a rumour until Lee throws a file with a mission briefing into the team room. Their team room was once a spot where vending machines gathered. But after a drop of budget some of them were removed, and what took its place was Anakin's team and a couple of couches and a wooden working table modified to fit a holoprojector in it.

SHIELD agents were trained to master a lot of skills, but being patient was never one of them. While Anakin had already gotten used to the wait since sometimes he was the culprit for making a whole troop of clones wait for a green light, some were on the verge of going nuts. Across the gym you have people playing holo chess in the slowest pace they could perform. And back in the team room people would trash talk or fiddle with some gadgets and somehow be able to play a few matches of Russian Roulette.

Soon Anakin's mind swerved back to the space use Quinjet they mentioned. Dogfighting in space wasn't something new to him, but unless the whole team's in trouble, he'd have to pretend it's his first day like the rest of his flight. it didn't take long for his memory to magnify the times during the Clone Wars, where he flew the most amount of sorties in any war. Some were routine patrol over hostile skies and space, others were some of the biggest air fights in his life.

And that brought back to one occasion where he was flying with a squadron of clone pilots.


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 5

Onderon Skies

It was already two-thirds through the grueling Clone Wars. As all wars tend to do, technology in every field had seen ground breaking advancements. Here was Anakin Skywalker, flying in one of those creations born under the violent outbreak of an intergalactic war. A brand new ETA-2 interceptor, designed for commanders and flight leaders to coordinate his or her squadron.

Once in a blue moon a jedi pilot would complain about the fire power of the older Delta-7s, and for some reason Kuat engineering actually took their opinion and added another pair of cannons at the tip of their wings. On top of that, there were missile bays under the midsection of its wings. But Anakin never used them, for he was too used to cannons.

He was accompanied by a trio of Z-95 Headhunters on a combat air patrol days after they received intel that the aerial fleet of the Separatist forces may be still at large. Apparently some scout troopers have identified an airbase across the planet. And after that and a guerilla attack from their fighters and bombers, the Republic captain in charge of the Onderon blockade decided to let the jedi go out and hunt down the remainders of the droids.

This was one of the few times Anakin wasn't taking a large squadron with him, for they had to save resources and ammunition for the next offensive wave. That was a new doctrine of the Republic navy, or at least for the captain's branch. Anakin was some dozens of miles away from the airbase coordinates when his astromech R2D2 picked up several dots on the edge of his round screen.

"Contact. 50 miles out and on our 12 o'clock." He announced before signalling Oddball, the element leader, to break off and get the jump on the Separatists from high above. he complied by rocking the Headhunter's wings and going at top speed, away from Anakin and his wingman. The remaining two pushed the throttle to full power, and closed the gap between them and the unsuspecting Separatists.

Anakin's wingman primed his missiles and rested his thumb on the release button behind the cannon trigger, while calmly waiting for the good tone signal to be displayed on his helmet. At the same time the Jedi knight pulled lead on the closing vulture droid, and kicked off the game by blowing off its left wing with deadly accuracy.

The two forward players who ascended reappeared from the edge of the cloud, their belly facing the sun and the missile bay open like the jaws of the Sarlacc, ready to score their first goal as the surviving vulture hurtled past them from underneath. One, Anakin's wingman counted, two torpedoes flew away from the Headhunters and sent scorched metal flying sky high in no time.

Oddball and his wingman pulled their crafts back upright after the diving run as anti aircraft fire streaked past their wing tips. Apparently two missiles were only enough to put half the base out of action. Anakin noticed the remains of the base, and had his wingman break off while he joined Oddball to form a wagon wield above him in an attempt to trick the vultures to engage.

Their manoeuvre allowed them to keep an eye on each other's tail. When one vulture, which it did minutes later, tries to get a bead on Anakin or a Z95, the person following would be able to bring the droid down. It worked twice, but when a flight of droid tri-fighters deployed from space came with missiles and heavy cannons Anakin had to order his flight to break formation and concentrate on the unwanted company.

A head on pass with their opponents had resulted in Oddball's Headhunter taking a hit on his left wing, rendering it smoking and leaving him unable to turn hard left as he was fixated on putting it out. He was only spared when the pursuing droid fighter was distracted by his wingman. Defying the wingman's expectations the droid's programming permitted it to break off for a brief moment to shake him off first. It spinned violently as it ascended away from the rest of the fighting bowl, trying to confuse the amateur flyer.

Back to ground level, Anakin found himself having a droid fighter at its mercy. The droid was smart enough to try to trick the jedi pilot into making a mistake and crashing, a big mistake for a droid that didn't recognize its adversary. After a minute of violent twisting and turning, Anakin squeezed the trigger of his ETA-2 interceptor for the first time of his life.

* * *

"You ever flown an aircraft?" Tristan asked with two glasses in his hands as he sat down next to him.

"No. We probably should be reading a flight manual instead of chilling here." He lied, purposely. The truth was he himself was and is a flight manual for any known aircraft or spacecraft. He just wanted to spare himself from trouble.

* * *

Oddball soon joined his wingman and fired their cannons almost at the same time. "Whoo! I got one!" The battle hardened pilot heard his wingman celebrate.

"Yeah. Because I helped you with that." He added.

"Stop stealing kills, sir."

"Very funny, pilot. I might actually get the next one if you don't catch up." Oddball retaliated as he dived towards the last droid. By the time he reached the lone opponent it had already made up its mind to flee the area. The two of them moved into position to mark their kill, but was stopped when Anakin noticed the fighter making to the clouds.

"Wait. Let that one go. We don't have much fuel left."

Almost as surprised as his wingman, Oddball turned to his commander. "Are you sure sir?" He asked.

"Certainly. A victory will be worthless if you lose your life." Replied Anakin. Deep down he knew that wasn't always true, as Rex once told him the tale of one of his men Hardcase, who was lost in the conflict of Umbara for flying a stolen craft into a Separatist flagship. He told the story as if he was recalling all this with the Force with a big smile on his face.

Anakin was undoubtedly a highly experienced and talented pilot, but it was only during the Clone Wars did he learn the true purpose of flying a fighter.

To survive and protect the guy on his wingtip.


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 6

The Final Frontier

Anakin didn't know what to expect when his squad was summoned to be transferred into a military airbase within inland America, and neither did the rest of his teammates. Perhaps commander Lee had a brief picture of what was to come, but after their time of service they have learned concealing their almost uncontrollable excitement was essential to not get overconfident and get people hurt.

He was told the briefing won't happen until during their ride, since boredom was a constant pain in the butt in pretty much any law enforcement organisations, especially when getting transferred. Most people would choose to sleep, but since SHIELD's trucks weren't always quiet, members preferred to simply get sleep while they're in a base and rather than on the move. Of course, that didn't stop some people from trying.

In the shelf of his room lay his operations kits, with several large duffel bags for different purposes. Without a second thought, he picked up the one that had an 'expeditionary' label on it, as well as his ICERs and box of optics. Although it was pretty clear he could do plenty of damage without any help from his weapons, his higher-ups determined that any superpower might fail one day, and that a normal human's weapon might save him when that happens.

The ride to Wright Patterson Air Force Base airbase wasn't that long thanks to the Quinjet, but none of the members who received the transfer order could say the same. The best way to explain this would be to tell you not to ask for the impatient people among them, but ask them the weirdest ways they can come up with to kill time. Anakin's way was to simply meditate, and pray no one asks about it.

Of course, life almost never goes the way you want it to.

"How do you sit with your legs crossed and sleep talk and expect time to go faster?" Obviously to him, this question was not from someone Anakin already knows. Rather, a hothead airman from a different branch of SHIELD got curious.

"Weird habits." He returned in a attempt to cut the conversation short.

The men chosen were told their launch time was during midnight three days later, where it was said the weather conditions at that time were the best for launching any spacecrafts. To them, it simply translated as more waiting. To make matters worse, everyone that had experience in the air knew that flights like these were prone to delays of any scale, especially when it involves leaving the atmosphere.

"Okay. General rules. No one is to leave the airbase unless mission requires. No gambling, no drugs without medical paper consent, and absolutely no alcohol." The whole team has been through this brief for more than one in their lifetime. Though a few of them were starting to find it annoying, none of them would say a word. The saying 'don't drink and drive' applies to every machine that requires an operator, including space fighters.

The next part covered firearms usage within the base. Since they were in US, rather than the Middle East, the instructions for responding to an attack were skipped. "Any questions? Welcome to Wright Patterson Airbase, have a safe flight." Anakin could only guess the guy figured out what they're here for. Afterwards the team blended in with the regular armed forces and scattered to some vacant quarters. As Anakin unloaded his duffel bags onto a shelf, he noticed a ten of clubs card stuck between the concrete wall and the back of the shelf.

Apparently card gamers weren't that uncommon in the conventional forces.

Later that day commander Lee told them they were to gather in a conference room at 21:00. The message was sent by Tristan when he and Anakin were both at the chow hall in their 'casual' attire, which was a black t-shirt with dark cargo pants. SHIELD's clothing rules were never really strict, in most operators' opinion. They concerned more about whether you're doing your job right when they need you to.

"They want us in the conference room at 21:00 now." Said Tristan as he swallowed some food.

"I take it's about differences from Quinjets and the weather?" Anakin guessed.

"Should be."

Then it shouldn't be too hard to pick up from where I left off.

* * *

It was mid 20 BBY, the midpoint of the deadly Clone Wars. With both Republic and Separatist planetary blockades being attacked everywhere, the demand of both the number and skill level of pilots rapidly increased in both factions. With that, so did the quality of Republic starfighters. Unlike their foe, which relied on sheer numbers to defeat their enemy, they desired a little bit more quality than quantity. The was a good example. It was even rumoured that one pilot

Anakin himself was switching to a new ETA-2 interceptor with the same old paint job. But he hasn't tried it out in a computer simulation. Heck, he hasn't even read the manual yet, or should we say he never reads the manual. He was confident that he'd know which button is which when he steps into the cockpit, against his master Obi Wan's advice.

"I'm not going to send a shuttle after you then. May the force be with you." He bloated.

Other than the admirals in charge of the fleet, there wasn't anyone else that outranked him and might lecture him about flight safety. And the admirals were either too busy with the fleet or weren't aware of the handful of ETA-2 delivery. So that left Anakin pretty much free to fly in any manner without harming himself or his squadron.

Today's mission was considered one of the bolder aerial missions. Anakin's flight was to go to the Separatist controlled planet of Ringo Vinda and attack their fleet with merely a large fighter squadron. Upon assembling his men Anakin noticed almost none of the clones had the same helmet decals. It was almost like the planners wanted all the best men in one place. He was also told they would expect a class of ships called 'cutters' to break a hole in the Separatist fleet and pave the way for a troop assault in the station.

His test began after the squadron microjumped above the Separatist fleet. The first wave of 9 heavily modified ARC-170 dropped their torpedoes and chaff bombs on an escort frigate before splitting apart, revealing a second wave of Y-wings packed with rhydonium missiles and more bombs. In less than a minute, two of the four escort frigates were out of action and a third under fire and damaged. The Separatists' droid commander scrambled every Vulture droid in its arsenal, while contacting admiral Trench for reinforcements.

The bombers could barely keep themselves together and were ordered to jump out, leaving Anakin alone with the 9 ARC-170s and his new starfighter. With skillful manoeuvring he cheated death three times in two seconds and had his cannons lined up to the bridge of the damaged frigate. However he's already lost 2 of the 9 fighters, and seconds ago one craft reported a missing tail gun, with a comment stating he's glad all the gunners and co-pilots were replaced by droids to save manpower.

Thankfully Anakin's reinforcements of four Arquitens-class cruisers, each fitted with four extra turrets and a pair of battering rams on their prongs, showed up. Upon entry two of them performed a collision with the bridge of the last two Separatist ships, allowing them to be boarded and Anakin's small fleet of modified fighters to retreat.

Anakin was of course not happy about the loss of a total of 4 good pilots, despite not knowing most of them very well. But the success of his test flight and the victory itself made up for it. Afterwards, his reputation of being the most erratic pilot only grew larger, so large the Separatists doubled the bounty on his head.

* * *

"Damn. I kind of miss the good old days."

* * *

AN: Speaking of which, if any readers know a battle in Star Wars with a similar nature, do please leave it in the comment section. Also, a sincere thank you to all the readers, favourites and followers! May the Force be with you!


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